


By the Hand of the Well-Intentioned

by klynie



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Blanket Permission, M/M, Multi
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2007-07-24
Updated: 2007-07-24
Packaged: 2017-11-27 07:46:54
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,124
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/659543
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/klynie/pseuds/klynie
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sirius undertakes a mission for the Order on the way to the pub.</p>
            </blockquote>





	By the Hand of the Well-Intentioned

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Iamisaac](https://archiveofourown.org/gifts?recipient=Iamisaac).



> Written for Iamisaac for the 2007 Reversathon fest. Thanks to my betas, Empathic Siren and Sansa, who make any story I write exponentially better. Plus, they make me smile. Lots. Any remaining mistakes are my own.
> 
> Reversathon Request from Iamisaac: Snape/Sirius/Lucius – rough sex with Sirius really not wanting to enjoy himself, but… R+ preferably

**By the Hand of the Well-Intentioned**

  
  
  


"Bad faith makes the most of every ambiguity." Mason Cooley

  
  
  
  
Sirius Black stomped his feet and hugged himself. Early September in London could be balmy, but this far north the weather turned cold much sooner. He debated casting a Warming Charm but decided that it might attract attention of the sort he was trying to avoid. The moon would be full tomorrow night; with tonight's clear skies, he already found it difficult to find a place to wait without looking conspicuous.   
  
He pulled his cloak closer and kept to the deeper shadows in the dirty alley. He found himself worrying about James. And Lily and the baby, of course.   
  
Sirius savoured the memory of Harry's squirming weight, of holding him tight and secure not twenty minutes ago. Lily had kept a sharp eye turned on him from across the room but James smiled indulgently. James understood, of course; Sirius would lay his life down for little Harry, he would hardly drop him.   
  
Funny to think that all this was for him, a baby, barely even a person. Harry had been so small cradled to his chest, warm and grumpy and smelling of milk and Lily. Sirius shook his head. Dumbledore must be wrong. The defeat of Voldemort couldn't be tied to James' son. Tiny, perfect, innocent. He wondered if he'd ever been as pure as little Harry or if he'd been doomed from conception.  
  
He stamped his feet and hoped that Peter had the sense to keep his butterbeer hot for him.  
  
A shadow moved amongst deeper shadows; he heard a whispered, "Phoenix."  
  
"Rebirth," he whispered back.  
  
The shadow stepped forward. A hood was pulled back by a pale hand and Sirius found himself face to face with – Snape.  
  
Snape seemed to recognise him at the same time.  
  
Wands were pointed at each other within a heartbeat.  
  
"What are you doing here?"   
  
"Cursing Albus Dumbledore at the moment," Snape replied. "You're my contact, I take it? Lower your wand, you fool – I have the information that you came for."  
  
Sirius snorted. "You first."  
  
"We don't have time for this," Snape said. He lowered his wand. "I swear, Black, if you hex me I'll kill you, Order or not."  
  
"As if you'd have the chance," Sirius said, lowering his wand but keeping a sharp eye out for Slytherin tricks. "You're pathetic at duelling – the reflexes of a constipated snail. I can't imagine why Dumbledore thought you'd be a good Order member. Probably felt sorry for you. Hurry up – I'm meeting someone over at the Three Broomsticks."  
  
He could see Snape's nostrils flare and a tick start in his jaw. "If you'd shut up, we could finish more quickly. It's not safe to tarry." He glanced around and pulled a scroll from his robes.   
  
"Is it really the Fidelius Charm?" Sirius was impressed despite himself. "I thought that was a legend."  
  
"No legend. Just difficult to obtain."  
  
"What did you have to do to get it?" And what possessed Dumbledore to entrust such a delicate task to Snape in the first place?  
  
"You're a messenger boy, Black, not an interrogator. Just get this to the headmaster immediately."   
  
Snape handed the parchment to Sirius, who tucked it into his robes.   
  
Snape turned to leave, but hesitated. "I have another message for the headmaster. I can't contact him directly, but it's vital he receive it." Clearly reluctant, he glared at Sirius. "Tell him that there's a traitor close to Potter."  
  
"What!?" Sirius grabbed Snape by the front of his robe. "Who? Tell me now, or I'll curse your balls into little sacks of dried shite."  
  
"I don't know!" Snape tried to pull away from Sirius; he held on tighter. "I just know that Potter's enemies seem to know where he's going to show up next. They know the Potters are hiding at Hogwarts."  
  
"You bastard!" Sirius hit Snape in the mouth, sending him sprawling into the dirt. "Only Dumbledore and the Marauders know that. How did you find out?"  
  
"I despise your absolute stupidity." Snape rubbed his mouth and glared. "I found out because there's a spy in your midst."  
  
"None of us would betray James. We'd die first."  
  
"Well, one of you seems to have changed his mind about that," Snape sneered. "We're not at Hogwarts any longer. We're in the real world and there's a war going on."  
  
"If one of us betrayed James, why are you telling me?"  
  
"You and Potter are thick as thieves – you lack the imagination to betray him. You'll probably be his Secret-Keeper when he's placed under Fidelius. Besides," he added, wiping his mouth again, "if you were the spy, he'd already be dead."  
  
"You're implying that Remus or Peter is a spy." Sirius trembled with anger. "That's impossible. Remus is in Brighton and Peter's been staying with me."  
  
Snape warily stood. "Lupin was in Diagon Alley yesterday. I saw him myself."  
  
"That's impossible," Sirius repeated. Not this close to the full moon. Not when he was supposed to be working at the bookstore in Brighton last night. "I Fire-called him yesterday. He was just headed to work."  
  
"He's a wizard," Snape said. "He can Apparate."  
  
"You're lying." Sirius drew his wand. "I bet you're the spy."  
  
Snape stared at the wand. "You must be joking. Where would I learn about Potter?"  
  
"I don't know. I'm not a spy. But you've always been one, sneaking, following us around." He aimed at Snape.  
  
Snape pulled his wand, but he wasn't fast enough. In a moment he was lying on the ground, bound fast.  
  
"You fool! Let me go! You're going to get us both killed," he snapped.   
  
"I don't think so," Sirius said grimly. "In fact, I think I'll probably end up saving a few lives. I'm taking you to Moody."  
  
"What? No." Snape paled and struggled against his bonds. "Take me to Dumbledore if you have to take me anywhere."  
  
Sirius shook his head. "And have you attack him?"  
  
"I haven't attacked anyone, you fool!"  
  
"A pity, Severus."  
  
Sirius whirled around but found his arms bound by ropes. He dropped his wand and fell.   
  
He was flipped over and the end of a cane was planted on his chest. Snape had been released; he brushed the ropes away and stood, picking up Sirius' wand.  
  
"Thank you, Lucius."  
  
"You're lucky I was walking by. I overheard Black accuse you of being a spy." Malfoy smirked. "I'm surprised that you couldn't take him. He's not very observant, is he?"  
  
Snape stiffened. "Leave the fool here. We have more important things to do."  
  
"Malfoy," Sirius sneered. "Attacking from behind. Just what I'd expect of you." He struggled against his bindings.  
  
"There's no reason to hurry away," Malfoy said, using his cane to block Snape's retreat. "You know I have a fondness for matched sets."  
  
Snape glared down at Sirius. "He's of no value. Believe me."  
  
Malfoy's words sounded foreboding. "What do you mean, 'matched sets'?" Sirius asked.  
  
Malfoy smirked and levitated Sirius until he could stand. "Why, of Blacks, of course. My wife, her sister – and your brother. Such a sweet boy."  
  
"You bastard!" He lunged at Malfoy.  
  
Snape slapped his face, hard. An instant later, Sirius couldn't open his mouth. Snape grabbed Sirius by the collar and leaned forward, his mouth pressed against Sirius' ear and his greasy hair rancid against Sirius' nose. "Don't make a sound, and maybe I'll be able to get you through this alive." His voice was barely audible, but the threat was unmistakable.   
  
Sirius struggled harder.  
  
"Such a pretty boy," Malfoy said, walking around them. "He writhes so beautifully, doesn't he, Severus?" He waved his wand and the alley brightened.  
  
"Lucius," Snape said.  
  
"Don't worry. Just a simple Disillusionment Charm bound within a Shielding Charm, with a touch of  _Silencio_. You can allow him to speak now. No one will hear him." He ran his fingers through Sirius' hair. "No matter how loudly he screams."  
  
Sirius tried to snarl. Malfoy smiled.  
  
"You may enjoy the sound of his voice, but I despise it," Snape said. He waved his wand and Sirius could open his mouth again. "I'm willing to compromise, though. His mouth might be good for something."  
  
He tried to yell at Snape, but no sound came out. Snape spun him around and held him.  
  
"Oh, yes," Malfoy said. He drew a finger along Sirius' jaw and down his throat, pressing on his Adam's apple until Sirius could retreat no further, pressed tight against Snape's hard body. Spots danced in front of his eyes.   
  
The pressure lifted. "Black tongues are particularly talented, I've found." Malfoy looked at Sirius' mouth, considering.  
  
Snape grunted in Sirius' ear, his hands iron bands around his upper arms. Sirius realised that he was actually in danger of being hurt, possibly raped, if Malfoy's actions were any indication. And if Snape thought that Sirius would believe that he'd help him, he was a fool. He tried to jerk away, but Snape held him firmly.  
  
"We've got places to go," Snape said. Sirius could feel tremors running through him; was Snape frightened? Or just a sick fuck? Probably the latter. He tried to still his own shivers.  
  
"We have time." Malfoy looked around the alley. "However, I much prefer privacy for my more – intimate – pursuits."  
  
Snape tensed. "People will come looking for him. He said he was on his way to meet someone at the Broomsticks."  
  
"All the more reason to move somewhere private," Malfoy said.   
  
Snape shook his head. "We'd be taking unnecessary risks –"  
  
"Severus." Malfoy frowned. "Why are you suddenly so cautious? Are you so frightened of a restrained Gryffindor?"  
  
"Don't be a fool." Snape's voice hardened. "Fine. We take him somewhere private. But if we're late, it's on your head, Lucius."  
  
Malfoy looked down his nose, a sneer on his lips. "Blame will fall where it will. In fact," his eyes narrowed, "if I didn't know how much you hated this particular Black, I'd think you were trying to let him go." He brushed Sirius' cheek with the head of his cane. Sirius tried to jerk his head away, but was pinned against Snape's shoulder. "And before we've taught him the proper respect he should have for his betters."  
  
Sirius glared, hoping that Malfoy would understand just how much he was going to regret his actions once Sirius managed to get free.  
  
"Where?" Snape asked through clenched teeth.  
  
"You said he was going to meet someone at the Three Broomsticks?" Snape nodded, and Malfoy smirked. "Then we might as well partake of the hospitality of that fine establishment ourselves."  
  
"We're going to walk into the Three Broomsticks with Black like this and let a room?" Snape sounded outraged.  
  
Malfoy shook his head. "Malfoys have a special room there. It's been ours for as long as there's been a public house on the site."  
  
Snape snorted, his breath ruffling Sirius' hair. "No wonder the pub's been around so long – it's been under your family's protection. Fine. Let's go."  
  
Sirius barely had time to take a breath before Snape Disapparated them.  
  


oxxxo

  
  
The smell of beer permeated the space, the sour scent of hops overwhelming the underlying smell of neglect and damp. Most of the floor was dirt, but there was a wooden platform in the centre of the room.  
  
Sirius' blood ran cold. He remembered …  
  
 _… being eight years old and furious because Mother had given his favourite broomstick to Regulus, that little baby. Father would put it right, though – Father always put Sirius first, 'my heir, the next Black,' so Sirius was sure that Father would make Regulus give him back his broom. But Father wasn't in his study, or in the library, so Sirius found himself creeping along the passage in the cellar where he was forbidden to go. He could hear his father's voice up ahead, just around the corner and behind the heavy wooden door. And the door opened and he saw…_  
  
…a blood-stained post in the centre of a wooden platform.  
  
He swallowed. His father had been ridiculously proud of Sirius' courage as he entered the room, of his wide-eyed perusal of the Muggle woman bound to the post, sagging against her bindings, by the sight of his finger sliding through fresh, sticky blood.   
  
 _My son – a true Black._  
  
At age eight, Sirius had vowed never to be a Black if it meant that he had to use that room.  
  
And now he was in the mirror-image of it.   
  
He struggled harder, but Snape dragged him over to the post. Malfoy Transfigured his bonds so that his hands were tied to it high above his head, pulling him nearly to his toes. Barely able to move, he glared at them. For a moment, Snape seemed to be sympathetic, but the expression was so fleeting that Sirius knew he'd imagined it.  
  
A strange tingle and he looked down to see that his clothing had disappeared. He struggled not to hyperventilate – it was getting worse by the minute.  
  
By craning his head, Sirius could watch Malfoy as he slowly walked around him. "A Black in Gryffindor. Severus often told me of your exploits." He stepped close to Sirius, looking into his eyes. "Your brother has such lovely skin. It holds the marks of my cane for hours, his blood so hot he lights the room. You have lovely skin, too. A pity we don't have time to make it bloom properly."  
  
Sirius closed his eyes. He could imagine how Reg looked after Malfoy was done with him, could see the stripes of the cane, the heat radiating off his body. Horrified, he felt his cock stir.  
  
He should be terrified, damn it, not turned on.  
  
Malfoy noticed. He smiled and brushed the snake-head end of his cane along Sirius' cheek. "Yes. Truly ironic, a Black in the house of Gryffindor."  
  
Sirius shook his head. Behind him, he heard Snape snort. Lucius drew back.  
  
"A pity." Sirius heard Malfoy move to stand behind him. "But we have enough time for me to show you just how beautifully a Black responds to even a small taste of the cane."  
  
He didn't even have time to draw a breath before he heard a whoosh of air and felt a strip of fire blaze across his buttocks, the crack of the cane against his arse startling him almost as much as the pain. He jumped, his mouth opened in a silent shout.  
  
Snape laughed and Malfoy chuckled.  
  
"Severus, are you sure that you don't want the silencing spell lifted? He looks as if he'd sing quite prettily for us."  
  
"I prefer his silence," Snape said. "Why allow his tongue freedom when the rest of him is bound?"  
  
Malfoy chuckled again. "As you wish, my friend."  
  
Another whoosh, another flare of fire across his arse. He jerked, his cock filling further.  
  
"See how the marks are perfectly parallel?" Malfoy said. "If I had the time, I would show you how to place each stroke until you could draw a finger down the weave of stripes and feel each one blending into the other. Alas," another whoosh, more pain, "we shall have to make do with simple symmetry instead."  
  
Two more snaps of the cane against his arse brought Sirius to a full erection. Malfoy crossed into his line of sight once again. "You should see your face. Flushed, intent, passion written across every feature." The cane slapped down once, hard, across his cock. Sirius screamed, but without his voice, he felt as if the pain remained, unable to be purged by sound.  
  
He was hard as a rock. Snape wasn't the sick fuck. He was. Sirius couldn't stand the thought of Malfoy striping his cock another time. Nor, humiliated at the realisation, could he stand the thought of never feeling it again.  
  
"More responsive than his brother, though not quite so much as Bellatrix. She came with the third stroke, and almost every stroke thereafter. Feel the stripes, Severus."  
  
Fingers ghosted down his back and over the curve of his arse. "So much heat," Snape said softly. "Truly, Lucius, you have much to teach me."  
  
"And not quite the time needed to give you more than a taste now, my friend." Malfoy uttered a spell, and Sirius felt the base of his cock constrict just behind his balls. "There. That should hold him for us." He heard a rustle of cloth. "Spread his arse."  
  
Hands grabbed both arse cheeks, pulling them apart to expose his arsehole. He flinched involuntarily.  
  
Snape and Malfoy laughed.   
  
"Look at it twitch. It's hungry." Something hot and blunt pressed against him; Malfoy's cock. He heard Malfoy spit and felt the saliva run down his crack. "Let me feed it."   
  
A violent thrust stole his breath and crushed him against the post, and Malfoy was in. Then the rhythm took over as Malfoy fucked him. Hard.  
  
The pain grew – not in his arse, which burned, but in his cock. He ground against the post, denied the opportunity to come as Malfoy's prick plunged into him again and again. Sirius' mouth was open, forming soundless words, begging Malfoy to let him come.  
  
He hated Snape for making him feel grateful for taking his voice.  
  
Malfoy grunted in his ear, and Sirius felt him press tight against his back, his hips snapping in short, hard jerks as he came.   
  
When he finally withdrew, the air burned cold against the cane welts on his arse. He could feel Malfoy's come running along his crease and dripping down his thigh.  
  
"Blacks. What whores you are."   
  
Malfoy sounded smug. Sirius wanted to rip his cock out of his body by the root and shove it down the supercilious bastard's throat.   
  
But Malfoy was right. He'd taught him with stripes and thrusts, leaving him hard and aching to come. Just like his cousin.  
  
Just like his little brother.  
  
Snape moved behind him. He heard Malfoy laugh as Snape plunged in.  
  
The difference horrified Sirius. Where Malfoy's cock had pummelled and torn, Snape, the thrice-damned bastard, used his to bring Sirius to heights of ecstasy. Each stroke resulted in explosions of sensation – Snape was targeting his prostate.   
  
His aim was true. Each stroke made Sirius fly, his cock jerking, so red and hard that he ached.   
  
Sirius threw his head back against Snape's shoulder. He'd never felt pleasure so intense: sweat from Snape's body burning into the cane welts, his hips bruised and aching from being pounded against the post, his arsehole clutching at Snape to hold him deep so his prick battered against that sweet, aching spot inside. Everything burned.  
  
He never wanted it to stop.   
  
"You love this, don't you, Black?" Snape's harsh voice ground in his ear and yes, he loved it and hated it and feared it because it meant he was like Bellatrix, like Regulus but he wasn't. He wasn't..  
  
"Harder," he mouthed helplessly. Snape's hips snapped, driving his cock deeper. "Don't stop."  
  
Where Malfoy had been brutal to his flesh, Snape was brutal to his sense of self, to who he was and who he wanted to be and oh, damn him, Snape made him want to be fucked like this forever and he hated Snape – so much – for showing him his true identity.   
  
The band around his balls disappeared.   
  
Sirius immediately came, each stroke of Snape's cock against his prostate making his balls constrict and forcing another spurt of come to fly from his prick. He lost count of the number of times he shot; he only knew that he'd never truly emptied his balls before, but this time they felt as if they'd been turned inside out. Stars filled his vision and everything went dark.  
  
He came to a few moments later, his arms and shoulders aching with strain as his full weight hung from them. He tried to get his feet under him again, but found it impossible to move. Dimly, he realised that Malfoy and Snape were arguing.  
  
"…what use is it to us to allow him to go free?"  
  
"If we kill him, Potter and the rest of his sycophants will track us down to the ends of the Earth," Snape said. "We risk drawing attention that we can't afford at this time. Alive, he'll be humiliated and weakened."  
  
"It doesn't matter if Potter comes after us – he'll be dead soon enough. He's too blind to see the wolf in his own fold."  
  
The words jolted Sirius back to full consciousness. Fuck. Snape was right. Malfoy had just confirmed it. There was a traitor, a traitor amongst the Marauders. A wolf in the fold…no.  
  
"But Dumbledore has enough influence at the Ministry to make things difficult…"  
  
Sirius closed his eyes. Peter, maybe. But not Remus. Oh please, not Remus.  
  
He heard the crack of Apparition and then hands were at his bindings. Released, he fell to the floor in a huddle.  
  
"I've convinced Malfoy we needed to let you go," Snape said, his voice tight with anger. "That it's more trouble than it's worth to kill you. Maybe next time you'll listen to me when I tell you that we're in danger."  
  
"Fuck you," Sirius said wearily. "Is he right? Is the traitor Remus?"  
  
"I don't think he knows, either," Snape said, helping Sirius to his feet and handing him his clothing and wand. "Make sure you've got the Fidelius scroll."  
  
"Got it," Sirius said, feeling the crackle of parchment in his robes. He grabbed Snape. "Look, who do you think it is? I need to know!"  
  
Snape shook him off. "I told you, I don't know! Just tell Dumbledore and keep your eyes open."   
  
Before Sirius could say another word, Snape Apparated away.  
  
He slowly dressed himself.   
  
The post was streaked with layers of brown stains. Sirius smelled of musk and come and could taste the sharp copper tang of blood from his lip where Snape had struck him. He wondered if Malfoy had taken Regulus here, too, and felt his cock stir again at the thought.   
  
"Damn you," he whispered. The two bastards had awakened a hunger in him. Particularly Snape.  
  
Could he manipulate Snape into doing this again?  
  
He flushed and shied away from the thought. He needed to concentrate on figuring out what he should do next. The traitor. He had to find the traitor. Not Remus, he chanted to himself. Please, not Remus.  
  
Feeling once more for the parchment, he Apparated.  
  
He reappeared just outside the Three Broomsticks, in the alley that ran alongside the pub. Leaning against the building, he took a few moments to catch his breath and compose himself before he walked in to face Peter.  
  
Ironic, how deeply he hoped the traitor was Peter. He'd need to keep his cool once he got inside –  
  
A cat yowled from across the street, startling him. He crept forward to look, just in time to see a familiar face glance around and fade into the shadows of the alleyway across from him.  
  
Remus. Who had told him yesterday that he wouldn't be able to meet them at the Three Broomsticks because he was working every night right up to the full moon. Who never stopped by to visit, but who Fire-called every week to find out what was happening to Sirius. To James. To Lily and the baby.  
  
Who was used to hiding Dark secrets. Who had lied, otherwise why was he in Hogsmeade when he said he'd be working?  
  
Oh, sweet bloody Merlin. He had to accept it. Remus was the traitor.  
  
He glimpsed Remus again, further down the street, the light of the moon making it easy to track him. He seemed to be headed for the Shrieking Shack.  
  
Why? Was he going to meet Malfoy?   
  
Sirius glanced back at the Broomsticks, torn between following Remus to see what he was up to and meeting Peter to pass along the news of Remus' treachery.  
  
With a sigh, he turned towards the pub. Snape had told him to tell Dumbledore about the traitor. He had to save James and his family, even if it meant betraying Remus to the Order. After all, Remus had obviously betrayed them first.  
  
But he'd need to take some extra precautions of his own. Snape had mentioned that he thought that Sirius would be the Secret-Keeper for the Fidelius Charm. In fact, he himself had assumed that from the start. Others probably had as well. Perhaps he could use that to his advantage.  
  
He straightened. Only one Marauder was left. Peter would fight it, but in the end, Sirius was sure that he could convince him to be the Secret-Keeper. No one would ever suspect him.  
  
Sirius pushed open the door of the pub and walked inside.  
  


**_Fin_ **


End file.
